Excused absence makes the heart grow fonder

I just want to give y’all a heads-up: I’m going to be spending the next week in the wilds of mid-state Maine. This means that my means (hey homonym!) of long-distance communication will be reduced to shouting and tying succinct notes to chipmunks.

So I probably won’t be updating.

Before you start wallowing in a sense of abandonment, remember that, unlike some people, I’m actually letting you know that I’m going and I’m making vague promises of returning.

Actually I’m coming back early on Friday for my Shakespeare improv groups first gig. If you can't make the show, you can still buy the t-shirt : http://www.cafepress.com/3bardmonty

Last night was another kick-ass music rehearsal – I may actually have a crush on a cello. The cellist is very nice too, but the cello itself sounds utterly awesome. And it’s fun to have someone to trade melodies with while everyone else is singing…
On the improv side, Shakespeare Blues is also getting really good. We take a Bard play from the audience and improv a 12-bar blues song based on it. Last night we used Middsummers; sample verse:

Well my name’s Helena ,
I’ve got a rep for being nice and meek.
But I’m so confused now,
I think it’s time for me to speak.
‘Cause I’ve got two guys chasin’ me,
Which is unusual, ‘cause they’re Greek.

It’s a lot funnier when it’s live…

Thank you Chuckles the Clown

Things are coming along nicely with the 3 Bard Monty Show (the Shakespeare project we’ve been busting our collective humps on).

We finally secured a venue for August and it looks like we’ll get two shows in there instead of one.

I went to my first music rehearsal last night and it’s going to sound wonderful. Some really nice voices and the girl I’m fighting with rapier and dagger in one scene and verbally abusing in another also plays a kick-ass cello. She and I are playing under the song Bonny Swans (she on cello, me on mandolin) and now that I’ve actually learned the tune, it’s a hell of a lot of fun to play.

And Wednesday night the perfect tag line for the Show came to me (it’s a lift from the Mary Tyler Moore Show):

3 Bard Monty
"A little song, a little dance, a little Shakespeare in your pants"

An Open Letter to Johnny Law

Dear Cop-

If you are going to actually give me a ticket for going through a light that was pretty much yellow, please try to be more of a dick about it.

If you’re all chill about it and say things like “sorry I had to pull you over” and agree with me when I say “it was a pretty close call”, I’m expecting you to either let me off with a warning or, if you feel you must write a ticket, I’m thinking it’ll be less than $50.

$114.

And the light was, at best, a darkish amber.

If you’re going to ticket me like that, then act like it.

See ya in court,
Love,
Kit

What is in a name?

I am basically an honest person, especially when you consider that I do a lot of acting and improv...

But I think this innate honesty has prevented me from a great opportunity for some cheap, quick fun. I realized this tonight as I was leaving my local Starbucks.

They asked my name so they could write it in grease pencil on the cup that would soon contain my iced coffee. I gave the barista my name, my real one. As I left I realized I could have given her any name and I still would have gotten the correct beverage. There was really no practical need for me to be honest.

So next time I'm going to have fun with it:
Barista: Name?
Me (Kit): Reynaldo

or

Barista: Name?
Me (Still Kit, mind you): Hrothgar

Now it may go like this, but it still works:
Barista: Name?
Me: Hrothgar
Barista: Is that really your name?
Me: It is as far as the Witness Protection Program is concerned.

See, it's fun and no one gets hurt.

So I'm encouraging all of you out there, in situations where the name doesn't really matter, lie creatively. Make reservations under the name Hitler, place pick up orders for Ivan The Fantastic, tell the census guy that you really are Whoopie Goldberg, but not the famous one...

The truth may set you free, but this makes the world just a little more entertaining.

I'd just like to congratulate one Jenn Marsala for her brilliant interview. Excellent choices in both questions and interviewee...

I'd also like to publicly express my regret for any gender mix-ups with a certain t-shirt. I blame society.

My brain should not be allowed to live by itself...

Today, while totally minding my own business (I was doing laundry actually) this thought came unbidden to me:

There should be a calamari dish called "Squid Pro Quo". I'm not sure what it would be, but if someone wants to get to work on the recipe, I'd be appreciative...

"Friday" - such a beautiful word...

I know I haven’t posted in a bit – mea culpa…and carpe deim too.
I’ve been try to keep the rehearsals, actors, directors and venues for this Shakespeare thing organized.
I got at call from the guy who was supposed to be hosting the event on Thursday (while I was home for lunch no less – that’s me time, dammit!). Apparently the Aug 27th date we’d be working around is no good…this has a nasty ripple effect with my actors, especially the ones who are going to NYU and need to be back at school in Sept.
I got off the phone and wondered just how strict they are about not drinking on the job…
But I’ve got good people working on getting us another venue (this one is indoors, so we loose the cool outdoor Shakespeare effect, but don’t need to worry about a rain date) and this may actually help us. If we get the space for the 27th, we can do a second show in the Fall at the original venue – two shows means more stage time for my dedicated actors (except the NYU girls), more $$ for the Hole in The Wall (the whole thing is a fundraiser) and more rehearsal time for the show.
See when life throws you lemons, you make lemonade. When life throws you kiwi’s, you better hope it’s got the fruit and not the flightless bird, ‘cause the "flightless" part becomes very obvious when they’re thrown.
I’m also working on the next installment of "Cap’n Marsala"…it’s taking a while, not due to lack of inspiration, just a lack of time…
Now please return to your regularly scheduled programming.

Just sit right back, an' you'll hear a tale...

I have no idea where I'm going with this, but it's a start...


"Damn you, Mayo!!!" Captain Marsala shouted, her words lost in the wind and spray. The last broadside by Mayo’s ship, the Phlegmatic, had carried away the rudder and most of the steering tackle of the Faux Pas making the ship impossible to maneuver.
The Phlegmatic was well past Marsala’s ship now, beginning to make the turn that would bring back to either board the Faux Pas or send her to the bottom.
Marsala cupped her hands to her mouth, "Prepare to repel boarders!" Startled by the shout, Karl, the bright red cardinal perched on her shoulder gave her a quick peck to the back of the head. "I’ve got to get a damned parrot" Jenn muttered to herself.
Below on the main deck, Nemo, the master-of-arms for the ship was distributing pistols, cutlasses and pikes to the crew. Two small cabin boys were spreading sand from two buckets half their size across the deck. The sand would absorb blood and keep her men from slipping as they fought Mayo’s crew.
Marsala turned to Flint, "Run up the Jolly Roger fore and aft – let Mayo know that if he tries to board us, I won’t leave a body alive on his tub!" Her first mate waved to a seaman to pull the black and red flags from the signal chest. A minute later two large, red, grinning skulls waved from the fore and aft masts.
There would be no quarter.
Crippled, the Faux Pas drifted in the current off of the island waiting for the Phlegmatic to make her turn and move in. After all the smoke, thunder, yelling and screaming of the running battle between the ships, the silence that fell over the waiting pirates was almost peaceful; like the peace of the grave.
Marsala looked out at her rival’s ship. Mayo had struck some sail as he slowed to turn, so he must be planning on coming in close. He meant to board her ship and that meant he knew she had the map and the key with her. She also knew that if he captured her ship, he wouldn’t let her die easily; not after Morocco.
For the first time since she had taken up pirating, Jenn Marsala was genuinely afraid.